Our older daughter celebrated her seventh birthday last Saturday, and it was a happy day, filled with family, food and fun. Of course she also had the requisite cake, balloons and presents -- oh, how she loved opening her presents! The toddler was not forgotten either, as she also had her share.
Things did not start off so auspiciously though. The night before, we were all busy checking what needed to be prepared for the next day's feasting. Family members who came over also brought a lot of their own home-cooked specialties, but we were preparing some chicken galantina, a dish that is the specialty of one of our "angels" in the house.
She started with the chickens in the afternoon, and had deboned and stuffed them by night-time. Then she put them in the oven to bake. I guess she was already so tired, and she had been doing a lot of things from morning till night. But what happened was a party planner's nightmare, an epicurean Cinderella in reverse: the two succulent stuffed chickens, slowly browning in the oven and giving off juicy smells just as I nodded of at one in the morning, turned into charred black cinders in the morning.
She did not hear the alarm she had set, out of sheer tiredness. And I, I did not think to check if she had indeed woken up. Sure I was frustrated, but I couldn't find it in my heart to be well and truly angry. We just did what had to be done: our other "angel" hurriedly went to market to buy some more poultry, while the other "angel" made another batch of stuffing. I told her to just roast the chickens and put stuffing in them, and not debone them anymore, so they would be ready in time for lunch.
At this time I was busily baking a batch of cream cheese brownies (requested by cousins), then prepared a big pan of baked macaroni with tuna, requested by our birthday girl. It was already almost nine in the morning.
One consolation was that our relatives were still on the road at this time, as they left their houses a bit later than they expected, so it gave us some more time to prepare at least.
A quick bath, and hubby and I were off to get the birthday girl's cake from Red Ribbon (Barbie-themed, she's a little girl after all!), and some ice cream from the neighborhood SM grocery. After getting the ice cream, I was shuffled from one counter to the other, after which I ended up in the Wines & Spirits counter -- which was still in the process of being opened by the cashier. I watched as she painstakingly placed the coins in her cash register, and separated the bills by denomination. I thought I was home free by then. But oops! She did not have any paper for receipts! So her colleague slowly went to look for one. After which they realized they didn't have any plastic bag. Nuninuninuuuuu....
I wanted to blow off some steam, but I realized: this might be a tap on my shoulder to relax a bit, and not hurry too much. That things will work out fine. They did.
Even though they left their home later than they planned, our relatives still made good time and arrived well before lunch. There might have been a bomb scare in Manila, and alert levels were up, but that also meant that the roads were curiously devoid of traffic and congestion. After having settled in at our place, there was a flurry of opening food containers and choosing pots and pans, stirring and seasoning, cooking and serving, bantering and teasing.
Finally, finally, we were all gathered around the table. And we were thankful for the bounty that was before us. For the people who came and celebrated with us.
Our older daughter celebrated her seventh birthday last Saturday, and it was a happy day, filled with family, food and fun.
But more than that, I'd like to think that she felt love around her that day. I'd like to believe that wherever she is now, my mother would be smiling as well.
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